Drowning
by hidden-in-a-tree
Summary: Greg doesn’t know what to do. No matter which way he looks, all he sees are dead ends, and each one still leaves him sitting outside in the rain. Oneshot. Angst. Greg’s POV. Nick/Greg. Slash.


**Author's Note: **Oneshot. *whisper* That means no sequel! Anyways—Angst. Greg's POV. Nick/Greg. Slash.

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own Nick or Greg. I wish I did … but I don't. That's life.

**Acknowledgements: **A sincere and heartfelt thank you goes to Amanda, for editing and encouraging me. Love you, Manders!

**Summary: **Greg doesn't know what to do. No matter which way he looks, all he sees are dead ends, and each one leaves him sitting outside in the rain.

**Drowning**

Greg sat alone on the wet wooden park bench, his hair dripping and stuck to his forehead, the water running into his eyes. His nose, fingers, and toes were completely frozen and totally numb. It was a cold night for rain but somehow it poured from the Heavens anyways, defying all logic. The pond that held his gaze was slowly creeping up the bank towards him, the surface moving and swirling with every drop of moisture that was emitted from the sky. The sounds of the raindrops hitting the water were all that could be heard throughout the park and no one else was around. Not another soul stirred, except for Greg's but he felt like his spirit was dying, drowning out here in the downpour.

After the rage that had burned through his veins, he felt empty and hollow. Exhaustion had settled over him but he fought to keep it at bay. Falling asleep out here would be disastrous—hypothermia was nothing to scoff at.

Greg shook his head, stray raindrops flying off his nose, and new ones immediately replaced them. Once again he'd walked out on Nick. Once again he was the one who couldn't handle something. What had their argument been about this time? Oh, right. Who would show up to work first tomorrow. Or maybe it was another excuse from Nick about why they couldn't take their lunch break together. Or had it been  
both …

The Texan had obviously seen the fire smoldering in the younger man's eyes as he weakly said that they saw each other at home. Wasn't that good enough? Over the slamming of the front door, Greg was sure that the older man had heard his enraged reply. He was sure that Nick had heard his shouts down the hallway of the apartment, too. Probably half the tenants had heard his yelling as he left the building. He'd only stopped shouting about a block away as the serenity and peace of the park enveloped him, slowing his furious heartbeat and calming his mind.

A bunch of strangers now knew they were together, and yet Nick didn't care. No, he'd only care if the graveyard shift knew about them being a couple.

How did that even make any sense?

Sometimes Greg couldn't understand the Texan. Sometimes he was at a loss as to why Nick did anything. Did that bode ill for their relationship? If the younger man was struggling to understand his partner, didn't that mean there was a lack of communication? A lack of being honest? A lack of something?

To Greg, the thrill of having a secret relationship had worn off. They weren't in junior high anymore—there were no so-called popular kids who would laugh and point at them, making them both feel horrible about who they were and who they were dating. Greg wanted to tell the important people in both of their lives. Those people were their friends. Those people were family. They were Nick and Greg's teammates, and they could be trusted.

Why couldn't Nick see that? Why was he so afraid of their reactions? Why did Warrick, Catherine, Sara, and Grissom now seem horribly frightening?

Greg moved his foot slightly to the right, trying to get some feeling back into his toes. They tingled uncomfortably, making him squirm. He blinked a few times, then finally wiped the raindrops from his eyelashes. He was surprised that when he touched his fingers to his face, he couldn't feel it in his hand. All feeling was gone.

So here he was, sitting in a park in the middle of a rainstorm, slowly freezing to death, and all for what? What was he trying to prove? Why was he even out here?

He exhaled slowly, his breath becoming a mist in front of his face. Greg realized that the situation was pretty sad when he didn't even know why he was sitting out here. Had Nick's cowardice really forced him to walk out into the cold, where he planned to stay until he realized he was being stupid? Until he realized that he was being selfish? Until he realized …

Greg stopped his train of thought, backtracking. He had called himself selfish. Was he actually being selfish, wanting Nick to come out to everyone about who they really were? That they were in love and had been for quite some time? Or was Nick the selfish one, thinking only of himself and his fear of letting other people know the truth?

Greg cupped his hands in front of his mouth and blew into them. He didn't feel the warmth but by now he wasn't surprised by the lack of feeling in his body. He was going to stay out here until he figured things out, till he stopped being unsure of his and Nick's future.

For Nick, could the younger man swallow his ill feelings and be content with waiting for the Texan to decide when and where everything would be allowed into the light? Or would he have to take matters into his own hands … but what would that entail? Maybe it would be forcing Nick to make a choice: tell everyone the truth or live without the younger man.

Greg cringed, the skin on his face tightening painfully in the chill, cold air. Could he actually do something that horrible to the man that held his heart, to the man that he would die for?

He chuckled, the noise mixing with the sound of the rain hitting the pond. If he caught hypothermia and died, then yeah … he'd already have died for Nick. Or would the COD be stupidity …?

He let out a frustrated growl. Too many questions! Too many questions that he couldn't answer. Too many thoughts going in different directions.

Maybe … maybe he would just have to talk to Nick about it? If he explained how being open and honest with their friends was a good thing, then maybe the Texan would understand. Or Nick would continue to be his own stubborn self, refusing to let anyone know that they had been dating for the past four years. In love for the past four years …

What if Greg was actually the stubborn one? What if he was the one who was wrong in this situation?

He groaned out loud, rolling his eyes and rotating his shoulders. His body was now completely stiff, any movement difficult and painful. Of course, while deep in thought, Greg didn't move around a lot. The cold-induced paralysis was inevitable.

Why was it that when Greg was angry, his whole body emanated heat but when he was horribly confused, his body wasn't exothermic?

He stopped dead, forcing his mind back onto the topic at hand. What was he supposed to do? Should he react or should he just wait? Would reacting do any good? Would waiting eventually give him the results he wanted?

A better question: why was life so damn complicated?

All Greg was achieving was a visit to the doctor's office for either hypothermia or a severe cold. He wasn't helping himself by sitting outside, his clothing and skin thoroughly soaked and his limbs so frozen that he thought they were going to fall off.

If only the Texan was in his position, then maybe he'd see why Greg was so tired of sneaking around and hiding the truth. It was as if they were living a lie, leading double lives. But what could he do?

A rustle of fabric behind Greg made him quickly turn to see who it was, his neck twinging painfully. Nick was walking towards him, looking as wet as Greg. His short hair was lying flat to his head, his sweater drooping, and his shoes sloshing.

Nick didn't say a word; he just sat down beside Greg, his gazing at the pond. The younger man wanted to say something but he felt like he was being held back. Like he just couldn't. After a fashion, he forced himself to speak. "What are you doing out here?" The words came out all wrong—they sounded like an accusation but Greg hadn't meant them to sound like that. He was just curious.

"Drowning," Nick replied simply, shrugging his broad shoulders, still looking out at the overflowing pond.

"Drowning?"

"Yep. Since that's what you're doing out here."

Greg heard the tremor in the Texan's voice, so he didn't respond. He knew that Nick was going to say more.

" 'Cause you know," the older man continued after a moment, "if you go, I do too. If you drown out here, I might as well jump in after you and not even bother to swim. I couldn't survive without you. I'm not strong enough to." He stopped, his voice breaking. After taking a deep breath, Nick said, "I'm sorry I'm not strong enough."

Greg knew the real meaning behind Nick's words, and this wasn't the resolution he had been hoping for.

"Why can't you find that courage somewhere, then?"

"I just … can't. I can't do it, Greg."

"That's your excuse for everything!" the younger man exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "You always say you aren't strong enough but you never try to be! You always seem to be strong for other people but never for me."

Nick turned to look at the infuriated younger man, and Greg could see a far away light being reflected in his jet black eyes. "What do you want me to do?" he asked softly, the words barely heard over the rain pounding the surface of the water that was sneakily inching towards them.

"I—I don't know …" Greg replied, his voice unsure. His mind was reeling—what did he want? Did he want to pressure Nick into doing something he wasn't ready for? Maybe the Texan's fears were unsubstantiated and he would realize this once their relationship was out in the open. Or could Greg's selfish behavior push their relationship over the edge, leaving them both broken?

"I want to find an answer," he finally said. He held Nick's gaze, trying to communicate his inner turmoil through his eyes.

Nick shook his head slowly, raindrops pouring down his cheeks. "I don't have one. That's why I was asking you. Are we going to sit out here until one's found?"

"Yes."

"Then I guess we're drowning till then," the older man muttered, turning away.


End file.
